Play It Again
by Moonchild10
Summary: Tamaki x Haruhi oneshot. Tamaki attempts to express his feelings for Haruhi through the piano. "I wrote a song for you," he says, his voice slightly hushed in the quiet moonlight of the third music room.


_Disclaimer: Ouran is own by Bisco Hatori, not me._

_Fluffy TamaHaru involving a ton of music references XD this is actually a lemon, and this is the cut off, kid safe version. To read the lemony version, go to the links section of my profile._

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Moving much quicker than normal, Haruhi hurried in an "I'm not running" sort of way toward music room three, chancing a quick glance at the hall clock and cursing under her breath. It was ten minutes to eight o'clock. This meant she was nearly thirty minutes late, which consequently meant that she was never going to hear the end of it from Tamaki. There seemed to be no end to her misfortune tonight, and she found herself hoping that whatever encounter Tamaki had planned was going to be worth stealing away from her father's suspicious glances across the dinner table and traipsing all the way back to school in the dead of night.

In all honesty, Haruhi found it a little ironic that due to the overly-helpful servants at the Suoh household and her own father's erratic work schedule, the only place she and Tamaki could have time alone was in such a very public place. Ouran Academy was not exactly an idyllic private location. During the day it was almost impossible to even find a place quiet enough to study. She was fond of irony and found amusement in it whenever she could, but when it came to irony standing in the way of spending time with her-- what exactly was Tamaki to her? Boyfriend? Lover? She supposed it didn't really matter-- sempai, it was not nearly as amusing.

With the handle of the lurid pink double doors closed firmly under her hand, Haruhi still felt the need to brace herself upon entering the music room, although she knew it would be for the most part empty. She was met by the now familiar sight of the music room at night, the shadowy couches covered by sheets, the wide windows letting in moonlight, and the soft sound of Tamaki playing Bach at the grand piano as though his life depended on it.

"Sorry I'm late, Tamaki-sempai," she said by way of announcing herself as she closed the door behind her. To her surprise, he didn't leap up and rush to her, he didn't shout. He simply smiled and turned his head to face her, pausing in his music to pat the empty space beside him on the lacquered black piano bench. Dropping her bag by the door, she gravitated toward the spot he had indicated and slid herself up onto the seat. Soaking up the surprising calm to his presence, Haruhi allowed herself to lean against him and heard the soft purr of contentment in his throat as clearly as if it was coming from her own.

"Well, you certainly did make me wait," he replied finally, though the glittering of amusement to his tone made it obvious to her he was not displeased with her. He never was, despite her earlier constant uncertainty of her feelings for him and her harshness toward him that had gradually melted away as readily as snowflakes on skin. Before, in the constant monotony of her fear of loving him, he had been far more patient than an ordinary human being, and she supposed this warranted him the right to tease her whenever he saw fit. After all these months of their relationship, she had grown much better at putting up with it. Pursing her lips, Haruhi smiled and shook her head a bit, ignoring him.

"It's good to see you too, sempai," she said, at which he stopped playing and turned his head to kiss her.

"I wrote a song for you." He was certainly to-the-point tonight. His voice was soft against her lips, and for a moment, Haruhi was not entirely sure what to say. "The reason I called you over here at such short notice is because I wanted you to hear it. I just couldn't wait any longer!"

"You didn't have to--" Tamaki placed a finger to her lips before she could finish, and with a slight smile, he shook his head.

"I know I didn't have to, but I _wanted_ to," he informed her. "It's something I've wanted to do… for a while. Is it alright if I play it for you now?" he sounded almost apprehensive, as though afraid of her refusal, and it was this that made her nod as quickly as she could so she could watch his expression calm itself. He wasted no time in beginning to play.

Haruhi had never seen such a look of intensity on his face as his fingers began to move across the keys, shaping the beginnings of a floaty melody. Haruhi knew little about music, but she found she didn't have to to find the piece beautiful. She hadn't even known he wrote music, but something about the passionate, lilting tone to the little woven pattern of notes was just so purely Tamaki that she was left in no doubt how skilled he was in the field. He played with a kind of abandon, and it seemed his entire body moved into the music, forming one entire entity from which the music flowed.

The piano was little more than a middle man to Tamaki's fervent movements. The calm bits of music fell away to give room for the rising, passionate crescendo that seemed to come from Tamaki himself rather than the keys. Haruhi was touched in the realization that it seemed to be far more like hearing a bit of Tamaki's soul than hearing a simple piece of music he had composed for her. In Tamaki's case, the two were apparently one and the same, and as he played the final bars and let his hands rest still on the ivories, Haruhi was left deeply shaken by the depth of the emotion in both his posture and his music.

"That is how I feel about you, Haruhi," he said, his voice a little hushed in the quiet moonlight of the room. "I don't know if you understand, but…" turning his head to face her, he smiled. The intensity that that been on his face as he played was still there, and he fell to her then, swooping her into his arms and kissing her breath away. "I love you so much…"

"I love you too," Haruhi was still deeply affected and little breathless, and she allowed Tamaki to kiss her with the same tender abandon as he played the piano, pulling her into his lap and lacing his fingers in her hair as though he hadn't seen her in a thousand years.

"I don't think you understand, Haruhi… just how much," he spoke between kisses, sometimes not bothering to fully part his lips from hers, and Haruhi fell quickly into the swing of fervent kisses, into the splendor that was kissing and being kissed by Tamaki. He never did anything half way, that much was certain. No matter how many times she found herself locked in this mad, often sensuous embrace, she could never fully prepare herself for how weak it made her body, how suddenly out of control she could feel. "Saying 'I love you' doesn't feel like enough anymore, and I thought maybe writing music for you would help me express myself better." he looked a little apologetic as he said this. "I don't think I'll ever really be able to express how I feel toward you."

"I know… that you love me," Haruhi assured him, trying to get words in between his frenzied kisses. She wasn't exactly sure how to tell him that she could _feel_ the intensity of the emotion whenever he touched her, whenever his lips pressed hers. "We're only teenagers, Tamaki. I'm sure someday we'll learn how to express ourselves, right?"

"Of course…" her practicality seemed to reassure him slightly, and he smiled and kissed her again, this time not letting her stop for breath until it became crucial. It was nice, Haruhi mused, to be free from club duties and having to act civilized and friendly toward him in front of the customers… to be able to act the way she really _wanted_ to act. When his tongue grazed hers and when his hands pushed up under her yellow cotton blouse to caress and heat the skin there, she could feel free to gasp and to pleasantly mutter expletives against the warm silk of his mouth. There was no longer the worry of seeming inappropriate or giving anyone the wrong idea. They weren't hosts, they weren't friends, they weren't playthings for the rich and the famous. They were simply Tamaki and Haruhi, caught up in the little world of each other and, for this short and blissful time, oblivious to all else.


End file.
